


0230

by Lovely_clorox



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Eating Disorders, Mentioned Stray Kids Ensemble, Purging, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, chan and jeongin are only mentioned, fluff is dead, im so sorry jisung sweetie, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 12:50:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20817563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_clorox/pseuds/Lovely_clorox
Summary: And the only way he's going to be beautiful is when he's hungry, filled with shame.(Jisung had spent too much time by himself to be okay with how he looked.)READ THE TAGS PLEASE





	0230

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING ANY FURTHER  
I'm so terribly sorry to you, my audience, and to jisung, who is gorgeous beyond my comprehension. He is not, and will NEVER be anything less of perfect! I've just chosen him as a character, for self-projection. So I'm really sorry :(  
Also, this is so bad, I'm really sorry about that too lmao. I promise I'm better than this but I haven't been feeling amazing lately so this is something that honestly just came out 💖💖

* * *

No one knew Jisung was hunched over the toilet bowl, dry heaving.

I mean, why would they? Even if they knew he was in the bathroom, they would have never guessed he was attempting to make himself vomit. If you'd ask Jisung, he would word it more like;_ trying to dispel the calories he should have never eaten._

Jisung gagged on his two fingers, the index and middle finger perched right on top of his reflex point at the back of his tongue. He was so exhausted. Emotionally and physically. He had been going at it for at least 30 minutes after finally realising; he definitely should NOT have eaten those extra 150 calories.

Jisung manages to keep it down in the dorm, it's late at night, and based on his knowledge of how long he's been sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, it's around 2:30 am. He doesn't know how he'd react if someone like chan or jeongin burst down the door, to find what the strange gurgling sounds of the bathroom really hid. Would they tell him to keep it down? Scold him for being so gross? Would they say he's letting the team down? Would they rush to comfort him? Jisung hopes it's the latter. Because part of him wants someone to care, and genuinely show it. He wants them to tell him to stop, that he's beautiful as he is. But, even so, Jisung knows the truth. The fact is, he isn't beautiful. He's a bloated pig, disgusting in everyone's eyes. 

_'You were finally doing what you've been trying to do for the past 6 months, Jisung, and now look at you, can't even choke it back up?_'

Jisung whimpered at the thoughts. Ever since he had realised what he'd done, they'd been merciless, triggering adrenaline to pump through his veins, an animalistic urgency to get the food out of his system. The racing thoughts didn't help him on his quest either, sure they got him down to the bathroom, made him realise just how fucking pathetic he was, but for what? His body had started to hyperventilate in reaction to the anxiety that came with his fear of being larger than he already was, and despite his relentless attempts, all he's managed to accomplish is a stirring storm of a stomach ache and a hand drenched in saliva, his fingers beginning to prune. A harsh reminder of how much he hates his body.

People have said it before. That Jisung is so skinny, skinnier than most of the other members of stray kids, even. He won't lie when fans comment on that, because he can see the difference when he stands next to them. But when he's alone, staring at photos of himself or even in the mirror. It fails to reach his mind nor does it _ever_ make sense. All he can see is a disgusting waste of skin.

It's been at least 45 minutes now and Jisung is so, _so_, tired... That isn't the reason he stops though, stumbling backwards onto his back, as soon as the dry heaving had lessened. In reality, his stomach was cramping up so fucking much and he couldn't stay seated on his heels any longer. And yet, it still isn't as terrible as the hunger pains he's come to experience.

  
As if he had just done 45 minutes of cardio, he was dripping with sweat, snot dripping from his nose and his eyes- oh his _eyes_. One of the most visible things he hates about this whole, pathetic exercise is the identifiable, red, swollen look of his eyes after his attempted purges. It never goes away quickly, he always has to wash them well enough with water and hide away before any of the other members can look too much and inspect the burst blood vessels in his eyes.

Jisung grasps the sink beside him, flinching at the cool porcelain and labouring his body upwards, fighting his ragged breathing and ignoring the way his legs tremble and knees threaten to give out beneath him. He manages to throw his chest over the sink, trusting his weak arms to keep him in place as his legs are still coming down from the aggressive spasms suffered from the heaving and hyperventilating.  
When Jisung looks in the mirror, it's as always. He sees the fat around his biceps amplified, he feels those extra kilograms that he just can't shake off, weighing his legs down, like he's a prisoner to his mind, the extra weight acting as his chain and ball; preventing him from doing anything until it's gone.

He glares into his reflection with the nastiest look he can conjure; the one reserved for him, and his body only.

_If you're not pretty, what are you even worth?_

_So fake, your personality lacks anything unique, you can at least look attractive, can't you?_

_all your talent goes to waste if you can't look even half-decent, jisung-ah_

_You're dragging the team down, what with your big mouth and fat ass? get out of here_

_you don't deserve to be in stray kids, bitch_

It's moments like these when he's put a physical hand on his emotions that the thoughts spiral out of his control. Control. What he hoped to gain from this sickly routine, that's became part of him. No matter how many times Jisung fights it, no matter how much he feels like he's finally grasping a handle on his life, it all comes crashing down in a whirlwind of excuses, skipped meals and late nights like this, gagging on his fingers to no avail. He will never get better unless he once and for all reaches his goal, it's the only way he can end this endless, exhausting cycle of lying and starving. 

Jisung wipes the tears of frustration that threaten to waterfall down his cheeks. He's better than this and he can't cry after every failed attempt, it only proves to rub in how weak he is. 

Once he feels better (though does he ever when he relapses?) he waddles out the restroom door, figure trembling, he pointedly looks away from the kitchen's overbearing presence. 

_keep calm jisung, you don't wanna binge again do you? have a repeat of what just happened?_

He practically throws himself into his room with as much grace as he can conjure, in order not to make a sound and wake up any of the members. He wouldn't forgive himself if he was the reason they didn't get as much rest as they deserved. He took a glance at jeongin, across the room who was sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the typhoon raging throughout jisung's body. He wouldn't care about Jisung. If anything, he'd be furious that Jisung was doing such a thing in their bathroom. 

Jisung, running out of energy (-had he even had any as the day began?) collapsed onto his bed, falling aggressively unconscious upon impact. His body, head to toes, utterly spent from his most recent activities as well as foolishly doing that one step too fast in rehearsals and almost passing out in front of everyone. (In front of the members who worked too hard to have to deal with jisung's problems.)

He wakes up only to repeat the same cycle restlessly.

_But he doesn't care._

_Because he's becoming beautiful._

<strike> _And the only way he's going to be beautiful is when he's hungry, filled with shame. _ </strike>


End file.
